More Than Words: You're My Home
by mercurial2010
Summary: Hardcore and kinky M. A "two-shot" (it's a thing – I'm making it a thing!) Smut "add on" to homebound. No need to read that though, there's all the plot pointers you need inside. Re-uploaded due to error - thanks Hollie! Just keeping you on your toes :P
1. Chapter 1

**About this fic.**

OK so the chapter cut is again arbitrary but I really couldn't work out where to put it and it keeps coming out far too long for 1 chapter!

I'm breaking a rule - it's third person POV, but i still think it has more than words elements.

Also I think I've been sleep walking – I seem to have swallowed a thesaurus!

'**Homebound'**

So all you need to know about Homebound is Brendan retuned back to the village after a showdown with Walker which involved torture (hence the scars referred to in this fic) and after a couple of arguments, a little persuasion from a little girl and a rant from Ste Brendan decides to try to fight his daemons to be with Ste. He then goes on to propose (which I know sounds slightly unbelievable so I've included the dialogue at the start of this.)

**Warnings**

Kink - in which both boys experience a first - Involves both toy play and fluffy smut.

Is literally PWP (the plot being the actual fic!) but I have tried to listen to reviews and up the emotion!

Anyway I know a couple of you have been waiting a while – hope it's worth waiting for :) Let me know what you all think. Big love as always :D

**3.20 am, 26/3/2013. Ste and Brendan's bedroom**

"_I want you to get a divorce."_

"_Oh look…Right, I didn't really mean that stuff about Doug to sound like that – I wasn't really talking about him, or Noah. What I meant was… look I know there's times you're gonna have to leave, and there's times you're gonna wanna be alone, I signed up to that, it just don't make it any easier…God I sound proper clingy don't I?..._ _Oh…wait…you're not saying you want-_"

"_What I don't wanna do is rush anything, I mean it takes a while to get a divorce you know- And knowing us we're probably gonna have argued a hundred times over by that point, and we should talk about it again then, make sure it's still the best for both of us. We'd need to talk to the kids, yours and mine, and you to Amy and we'll see what they say. And you know, we should talk through our options cos a ceremony might be best. And just so we're clear, there is no way I'd ever want us to share…the day, with anyone else, or have hundreds of guests we don't know from Adam. But…if it was just small and quiet, and us…well, it might be alright… Breathe, Steven! God you're not gonna start crying on me now, are you?!"_

"_Course not!"_

"_You're one wet lad you know that?"_

"_Oh I'm wet! You do realise you just proposed to me?!"_

"_Provisionally, yeah. Are you saying yes?"_

"_Provisionally."_

There are few times Brendan has seen Steven Hay really, truly happy. He has a million different smiles, customer service smiles, friendship smiles, "I love me kids" smiles, "I'm proper pissed off but I'm not gonna tell you" smiles, "wait till I get you alone" smiles; to name but a few. Brendan sees those every day they're together, more than once a day. But the beam Ste has now, like it comes from somewhere he's not even aware of and overtakes him all, this is new. Brendan's not seen it once in the three years he's watched him. It looks good. The doubt that maybe this was the boy's reaction to Douglas too is quickly mocked and locked away for the musings of another man. Steven's eyes are unwavering from Brendan's and he trusts he possesses this; he wants to be the only person that ever will.

In the intimacy of two bodies' yearning Brendan can smell them reverberating. Ste's eyes shine with a thousand promises, and in the iris intensity Brendan catches the thought that his soul is being undressed. He should be scared – a man like him, but he doesn't want it to stop.

Brendan catches Ste's thigh, helping him to arch one long leg over his hip, so they can slot into the places carved for each other. With two hands on Ste's face, he guards his familiar act of seduction - eyelashes hoody, lips parted and warm.

"You know there's no way I'm gonna let you go to sleep now right?!" Ste laughs, eyes flashing with lustful teasing.

"Is that right?...What _are_ you gonna let me do?"

Ste's eyes darken, he swallows hard, and Brendan can see requests made in heated arguments filling his thoughts. He didn't mean to ask _that_.

He never meant Ste to find those things; he didn't even really mean to bring the bag here, into their new life. But he had moved his entire being into this world before he stopped to think. Brendan Brady, being the man he is, probably wouldn't have done it at all otherwise.

"Anything," Ste breathes heavy, nodding their secret communication.

He didn't _mean_ to ask him that.

"Steven you don't-"

"I want to- I wanna be everything you want, Brendan."

Brendan goes to say that he already is, the words are on the tip of his tongue, but Ste grabs his kiss. Embracing him like he's falling into them with a speed he can't control. They pull away panting.

"Steven-"

"Just get the bag. It's still in the cupboard."

Ste's interest and excitement is palpable and Brendan knows not to ask for certainty.

Each object in Brendan Brady's bag brings back a memory: a taste, a scream, a heated arch. There were a couple of years when he didn't have sex with a man without them. But these days this bag sits cold and neglected in the cupboard he shares with his lover. Steven very quickly became the only man he'd fucked more than six times without the use of any toy. But he had freaked so much at just a hastily removed shirt tied around his wrists, he clearly wasn't ready. And they found other ways to excite each other; it had always been more about journeys of the flesh with them.

Brendan looks at him from over his shoulder. The boy's legs are bent into himself and his arms are crossed, he's never looked so little. But he's watching with determination like he's never going to look away. And Brendan feels that thrill of dominance start low within.

So he tells himself he doesn't see Steven breathe heavily as the blindfold is placed on the bed; or the long slow blink of those eyelashes as the beads follow with their companions.

The moment Brendan finds the rope those flooding-surface nightmares abound and he feels tension deep in every muscle. He wonders what sort of person he had been when consensual sex made its' bed fellow with torture - wonders also why he's never seen it like that before. He knows he never wants Steven to see it like that. He wants him for always pure and safe and unhurtable.

He doesn't know yet that it's not only Steven that needs to be kept safe.

"Do we need like… a safe word, or something?" The boy's tone is wrought with nerves, but it drips with desperation and pure physical need. He needs to do this, needs to fill every space of Brendan's dark psyche so he becomes irreplaceable.

Just looking into those eyes Brendan knows he doesn't possess verses enough to pull them back safely now. It's already gone too far.

"Do you want one?" He asks instead.

"I dunno, I mean-" Ste chatters, his naivety scarily close. "What would it be… Like, I dunno, garlic? Panini?!" and then he laughs at himself dressed in nerves.

Ste's fingers explore the beads, playing, rolling and squeezing; a bemused, new world expression on his face. Like he's excited about the places he might be able to go. And Brendan wants to take him every place he's ever imagined, give him the best high he's ever thought possible, shatter him into the diamond lust.

Leaving the rope discarded he makes his way over to his boy slowly, leisurely stretching each long powerful muscle as he puts on a show. He watches all of Steven's unmissable unforgettable discrete signs of attraction.

"What about red cos that means like danger don't it? Or is it not supposed to be a colour? I dunno…what's it supposed to be?"

With their lips barely touching, Brendan feels the boy's breath steady against his own.

"It could be any of those things," he controls his voice low, as his fingers explore the shake in those golden abs. "Or you could just trust me?"

"I do. I do trust you."

Brendan plays lightly with the taut skin over Ste's stomach, pressing down a fingertips reach into the boxers' waistband. He knows so well that incredible look on his love's face that's caused by just skin on skin.

"You know, I know you Steven. I know your body, all those little signs. You could just let me listen to you? I promise I won't do anything you're not ready for."

"OK," Ste feels like he's steeling himself. "Just slow, yeah?"

The boy picks up the blindfold, runs the silk sensuously through his fingers. Brendan stares at him dumbfounded, drinks in the look in his eyes like he could get off from just the feel of silk over his skin. Steven is the most sensuous lover he's ever had and that remembrance glitters like a promise – with only a little encouragement he could enjoy this.

"Just this'll do… for starters," Steven breathes deeply as the material is passed.

Brendan gives Ste that smile he knows heats him, all teeth and devil eyes - a gift to hold onto before he takes away his sight.

"Used one before?"

"A couple of times." The answer calms Brendan, until words are added, "not on me, like."

Hesitantly Brendan rests his forehead against Ste's. But their usual wordless communication is blocked by the white silk. He can't read the boys thoughts when he's banned from those beautiful eyes.

"Don't you fucking ask me if I'm sure, Brendan Brady." Ste insists, showing him he has no barriers against reading Brendan's inner thoughts. "It's just a blindfold innit?" He mocks but the heat in his voice is unmistakeable.

"It's gonna be so much more than just a blindfold, Steven."

Brendan Brady has never been as in control of every sense as when he's played dominant. There's a patience he finds only within this trick. The knowledge that the man's every remaining sense is on full alert ties lust tightly within him every time. He has always been focused on the minutiae - the man's smell, the man's taste, the man's muscle impulse. All those things lock within him and sharpen his skill.

But there's something about the way Steven is right now that starts to wipe away all thought of every other man, as though it's only ever been just the two of them. Sat back against the wall, his long limbs open and his skin so flushed he's almost pink, Steven is exquisite. That bottom lip is almost torn to shreds by his teeth. Brendan reaches his index finger to release it, slides it along the damp top and Ste swallows it in, grasping it between his teeth. The older man exhales loudly, giving him a sign that he's affecting him before pulling away, sliding that finger down the boy's adams apple.

Through the dark tight cotton of his lover's boxers Brendan can see he is still drenched more in nerves than lust.

"Just proper get on with it."

Brendan smiles at the lust-filled tension in Steven's order - he's confident this is the part he's going to enjoy.

"Oh I'd love to, but you see, this is all about patience. Sensory deprivation is all about the anticipation of the next touch."

He licks at the sensitive peak of his nipple and the boy's whole body arches up in surprise. He finds anchorage in his hair, twisting in tightly at the locks of greying dark brown.

"Where and when I'm going to touch you next."

Brendan knows that Steven has more of an idea of his position over him now his fingers are locked into him. Nevertheless, as his mouth sucks at a pulse point and his teeth bite the warm skin, his boy keens obsequiously.

"You'll enjoy that won't you?" Brendan asks as he slides his hands beneath the boy's boxers.

"Answer me-" Brendan's breath is heavy in his ear.

"Ye-yes!" Steven moans, as fingers pull at his treasure trail.

He tilts his head back against the wall, moaning between gritted teeth. Nervous embarrassment rushes through him, he's not been this submissive since the very first times Brendan fucked him. He is supposed to be stronger now.

"You're so hot like this, Steven." Brendan reassures him instantly, his hands playing within his boxers, almost but not quiet reaching down to his cock. "I love seeing you this submissive, this willing to do whatever I want, just willing to let me drink pleasure from your body. And I get so much pleasure from your body," his voice is a breathy promise. "I always do."

Ste arches his hips, allows himself to be stripped by the love of his life. And hears Brendan purr - impressed with how hard he's got so quickly.

"Let go," Brendan tells him and Steven's fingers tremble in his hair, resisting his orders. "Steven, let go now, it'll make it better for you, I promise."

The boy relents slowly. Brendan knows he's unworthy of this much trust, but there's not one part of Ste's body that he tries to hide. He puts his entire being into Brendan's hands so freely, and all Brendan wants to do is take everything, claim everything, possess everything, every time.

"Good boy," Brendan whispers. "Now try not to touch me OK?"

Steven does little but nod, but Brendan can almost watch those words reverberate over his cock.

"You like being this submissive don't you?"

"Yes, boss." His answer comes without pause. He rolls that title with purposeful effect and they're both slammed into memories. Those long nights, locked in Brendan's office or bedroom. The quick, relentless, harsh movements of two men addicted to another.

"Hmmm that sounds good, but I prefer it when you say my name. Say my name-"

"Brendan."

The boy is rewarded with a long lick across his ball and he clenches his jaw as he loses the touch too quickly.

"Again-"

"Brendan!"

Brendan licks up that swollen vein on the underside of his cock, flicking the head, spreading the precum over the hard, pulsing skin.

When the boy loses the touch he whimpers long and hard.

"Brendan!Brendan!Brendan!Brendan!" Ste says in quick succession before he's even given the order, having clearly been conditioned to his reward.

Ste hears that predatory laugh and his lips tremble and part thirsty for oxygen. Without sight every sound, every touch, every lick has so much more meaning.

Brendan takes his time to look at his lover, clearly on fire. There are few sights on God's earth as beautiful as Steven Hay truly lost to the moment, he wants to lock him firmly within. He leers at the fact that all they've done so far is put a blindfold on - the best is yet to come. He lubes up the beads slowly.

"Get on your hands and knees, get ready for me." Brendan says, knowing which position will be the easiest on the boy.

Brendan knows everything about doing this, there's a routine he perfected over many years with many men, but as he watches his love clearly drenched in new excitement he questions the cogency of everything he's learned.

"You're so fucking beautiful Steven, do you know that?" He tells him as he watches his orders fulfilled.

"Touch me, then! Please?" Steven pants, so fucking desperate.

Brendan's smile curls into his moustache, his lips smiling to bare his teeth. Most men just take their orders tamely; if they did reciprocate Brendan knew what to do to keep them quiet. But never once had Steven Hay been most men.

Ste moans in gratitude as his cock is pumped. The touch is expert, fluent, but lasts just a moment and Ste can't help thinking that it's more torturous than pleasurable as he's abandoned in the nucleus of their love.

"God Brendan!"

Ste feels his cheeks heat as he worries that maybe he's being too impatient, too weak. All he wants is the man's cock pumping hard inside him. But he knows he has to own this, accept everything Brendan wants to give him.

He squats on his knees, and comes forward, arms stretched out into the bed, opening his legs, exposing himself. He whimpers as he hears the man's next order.

"That's good, just sit the other way around."

There is something about moving on his bed without sight that feels sensational. Like he can perceive every dip, every creek, every ruck of cotton as though he hasn't slept in this same bed for six years. Everything feels brand new. He sighs in pleasure as he feels a familiar hand on his hip, guiding him through the dark.

When Brendan moves to sit behind him, he looks above into the dull bedroom mirror, and feels his cock weep. They look fucking amazing together – the boy's golden, smooth, hairless body obediently in front of the older man's pale, powerful, hirsute one. Brendan smiles at the contrast in their sizes reflected all the way down. Steven is so spectacular in this moment that Brendan can almost forget about the scars covering his own body.

Steven sighs as he feels a thumb stroke slowly down his spine. It trails over the hump of his arse and he prepares himself for the deep touch, sucking at his tongue to prevent noises escaping. But he loses as the thumb just runs back up his spine, and he lets a keen fall from his lips he doesn't know how much more of this –

"OhGodBrennnn!" The surprise amplifies his moan as he feels the familiar flicker of that tongue inside him.

Brendan pulls away, pressing his laugh into Steven's thigh – Steven Hay was the most sensuous, _loudest_, lover he'd ever had.

"Shit!" Ste says shaking his head as he relocates himself in time and place – early morning in the home he shares with his innocent children and their doubtful mum.

"Brendan- I don't want you to stop but-"

"It's OK," Brendan is quick to reassure him, his hands already rolling expertly at a pillow case.

He guides the roped cotton around the boy's face, placing it over his mouth.

"Bite onto this."

As soon as his fingers finish tying the knot he feels every muscle within his lover tense.

"Too tight?"

Brendan watches as Ste barely shakes his head; his shoulders still bunched together.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stop?"

Ste's answer comes indistinctly muffled.

"It's OK, we'll stop right now and we can do… something else. Just nod if you want me to continue."

The boy's nod jumps up and down like he's frantic and his answer comes with a whimper. Brendan smirks at himself - how did he mistake wildness for doubt and nerves? Steven is supremely beautiful when he's this strung out.

Brendan feels confidence breathe through him.

"Desperate aren't you?" He purrs, pressing a kiss between shoulder blades. He shines off every inch of the boy he's consuming. "You like these?" He asks, crossing his arms to stroke the soft skin just above the binds.

This time the muffled sounds are unmistakeable.

"Good. You look so fucking amazing right now, Steven."

Brendan moulds his hands over the boy's shoulder bones, knowing every cadence of his body perfectly. He strokes and massages at the tension. Brendan collects Ste's moan and within it he can almost hear his sass, 'That's great Brendan but I kinda wanted more than a massage right now.'

He keeps his hands against the boy's shoulders as he goes quickly right back inside him, feeling the familiarity of that muscle contracting and releasing at his invasion.

Steven's instinctive bucks towards the touch are blocked - Brendan's hands against his shoulders push right back at every arch.

A long hard whimper escapes into the cotton bind.

None of these are movements are new to Brendan, he would know this routine in his sleep. But there's something about this moment that pumps nerves around his heart. He's never wanted to give Steven anything but the best night he's ever had.

As soon as he feels Steven relax, submit, he scratches his blunt nails down his back, leaving long red marks. He grabs hold of his hips, tempting those movements to flow naturally through him. Steven fucks himself against that warm pink tongue, lost in trained sensationalism.

Brendan slips a lubed finger against his tongue and inside the boy, bends it to his prostate, before his touch leaves him completely. At the sudden abandonment there's just the tiniest of keens – Ste's learnt who's in control.

"Do you feel these beads?" Brendan breathes heavily, sliding the toy just over the boy's taut little ring.

He swallows hard as he feels Steven suck in a breath, if this was too soon –

But then he exhales, long and slow like a whimper. He nods slowly, bridled in lust.

"I'm gonna use them first, plenty of lube and they're smaller than me so you'll be fine. You'll like them, the way they feel as they go in, and in, and in." Brendan speaks. Using his voice in the way he's perfected, slow and heavy and dripping with the Irish. "They'll make you so fucking high, I can't wait to see you, but I'm only gonna go when you're ready OK?"

His perfected speech comes with a deeper meaning when it's more than just the mechanical movement of lips in forced heat.

The boy moans as if to say he's ready now, Brendan just smiles, pressing another kiss to his back.

"No, not yet. Soon though."

He presses three lubed fingers into him, just to the cuticle and waits till he feels the release.

"Take me in how you want to," He says allowing the regular insignificant liberty. But Steven takes it like no man before, like the freedom is everything, sitting right back down so his fingers disappear right to the knuckle.

Steven fucks himself wildly on those fingers. Brendan just watches in the bedroom mirror, feeling like he hasn't seen his lover like this before. His Steven this in lust. His Steven entirely lost to the moment. His Steven just a whimpering mass of sensation.

Eventually, as Brendan keeps watching, Steven just pauses and raises an eyebrow as if to say he's impatient. Brendan feels something inside him purr, God his boy is like no-one before. He has no equal.

Brendan knows exactly how to use those beads. He knows exactly how to tease every muscle taut with the slow rub. He knows the slow press inside will bring on those whimpers. But then as he presses the entirety of the first bead in, Steven's body buckles deliriously. His arms collapse onto the bed, his head dips right down into the mattress, animalistic moans rip at his bind, and Brendan knows there's never been anybody who sounds as perfect.

In desperation Brendan quickly rids his boy of the gag.

"Brendan," Ste warns as soon as the cotton lies discarded.

"I don't care, you're just gonna have to be quieter." He knows there's no way he could do this without hearing him.

Steven's lips pull into a smile like those words mean everything to him. His arms push himself back up on the bed, sucks in a breath as the beads shift within him.

"Kiss me," he orders and not even Brendan's dominance protests.

Their mouths hungrily drink from each other's liquid desire. Their tongues join in their eternal battle but Steven finishes the kiss short. His breaths flush quickly against Brendan's lips and the older man remembers he's still being touched by him, those beads still deep within. Brendan teases with a slight jerk of the string and sucks that little whimper right into his mouth.

Brendan's only ever watched as he's done this, kissing has always been only a distraction from his work. But he doesn't want to move away. He needs this, the intimacy between them, like it's filling a whole. He rests their cheeks together, so he can see without letting go. Ste sucks at the lobe of his ear as he pushes another bead into him.

"What's it like?" He asks – not part of his script.

"It's like…..Fuck, Brendan," his voice is so hoarse. "It's like I've never had sex before, it's fucking amazing, like nothing could feel better inside me."

Brendan stares at the beads that his boy is serenading. He never knew it would be possible to feel this jealous of an inanimate object, especially one he has complete control over. He doesn't want to hear Steven talking like that, he doesn't want anything to feel better than him, he doesn't ever want the boy to forget how they fit together. He would be lost.

The boy whimpers as he feels the beads tugged harshly away.

"I'm gonna bring you off now." Brendan tells him, as he chucks the toy to the other end of the bed.

Before he reaches for their drawer he turns on that familiar vibration in an attempt to mislead. Hoping that if Steven decides he prefers the beads he would believe it was over the black plastic and not over him. The boy was strung out enough to go with it with only a little deception.

Brendan moves quickly to sheath himself and sit behind his boy.

"This is bigger so brace yourself," even as Brendan says the words he doesn't know whether they're for the boy's benefit or his own.

Brendan thrusts inside him quickly, so fucking desperate to be deep within. He doesn't stop until he feels his balls whisper against those arse cheeks, forgetting for a second that the boy shouldn't feel any other part of him.

Brendan watches as his lover's fingers grasp hold of the passionately rucked up sheets. And he feels his cock gripped hungrily. He tilts his head back to stop himself moaning in satisfaction. He starts to fuck slowly, leisurely, to the pattern of Steven's long slow expletives.

"And how's this?"

"It's… it's better," As he hears Steven's words he feels his entire body take a breath. "It's proper perfect."

Those words are diamonds, they slot themselves within his darkest fears, deepest fantasies and fill him with light.

His hands stroke up his love's neck before he swiftly pushes the silk from his eyes and over his head. Those eyes are clenched shut like even light would bring climax.

"Open your eyes Steven and look up, look into the mirror."

The boy follows his orders completely, and fire rushes through every inch of him as he sees their perfect union. But there's no surprise, he doesn't make a sound, and to Brendan Ste's expression grows unreadable.

"Don't just leave me hanging, Steven, say something-"

His words come slowly, "take the condom off."

"What?"

"Take it off," he repeats and then Brendan sees that furrow in his brow, the tiny almost unnoticeable shake of his head. "If you can, I mean I'm safe right, I got checked before, but-"

"I would never hurt you."

Brendan's hands drop to his boy, wondering if there was ever a time Ste was going to believe him.

"I know." Ste's eyes worship Brendan, like there is nothing in him to worry or scare. And then his voice comes dripping with lust, "take it off."

Brendan presses a long kiss down Steven's spine as he pulls out and unrolls the condom. He catches Ste's gaze in the glass, watching every movement. But suddenly the glass isn't close enough, the look isn't intimate enough and Brendan knows he needs to be kissing Steven when he's inside him.

"Turn around, I wanna see you."

Brendan is shamed as his usual dominance sounds like a plea. But Steven follows his orders perfectly, smiling at him the whole time. How can he even feel shame or embarrassment in the face of this much love?

The boy's eyes drink in the older man's cock like he's magnificent. Fingers map over the throbbing flesh in an effort to explore every inch. Just the feel of the skin of his hands almost splinters Brendan's mind.

"Fuck, Steven…look, you know we don't have to do this. We've never even talked about this before-"

"It doesn't mean I haven't thought about it though. God I've thought about it so much, me. I just didn't know how to ask you, y'know if you were… able-" safe, he means safe. "But turns out I don't need to – I trust you, right. And I wanna do it tonight." A secret smile pulls his lips, "dunno just the night feels special for some reason," he mocks, shrugging.

"Oh is that so?" Brendan returns the tease with a raise of an eyebrow. "Why's that then?"

"No idea."

They share a laugh.

The older man pushes forward so the boy leans back on his arms. And they kiss like this, with their bodies askew, pressing into one another, like it's only their touch keeping them balanced.

"I love you." Brendan can breathe what the boy needs easier these days, and then he adds a lyric simply for the sake of saying it. He wants to know what it's like to say these words to the love of his life, his soul mate, the only person he was ever supposed to commit to. "Marry me?"

It fills any remaining gaps between them, it's like it fills his life and suddenly his future feels purposeful and good; and Steven smiles at him like he's just made his world.

Ste does that thing that's becoming a habitual reaction to Brendan's sentimental discords. His hand trailing over the older man's chin silently, like he's nervous any words from his lips couldn't match to Brendan's prose. He just nods and Brendan presses their lips together quickly, nothing more than a union.

"Fuck me," is Steven's vocal response.

"Lie down, then."

Steven just shakes his head quietly, this delicious smile on those large soft lips. "Sit up….trust me, it's good like this."

In all the noise and the excitement,  
you're love is all that will remain.  
I've said all of my goodbyes to ego,  
I gambled all I got, there's no plan B.  
It's the first time that I've learnt to let go,  
It's the only place I feel, only place I feel like me.

(Emile Sande "Where I sleep")


	2. Chapter 2

The older man submits to the boy's request - kneeling on the bed. His hands are on the small of Steven's back as he climbs over him. Steven's calves press either side of his thighs, his hand guides his cock in, until he's sitting down, uniting them perfectly. He presses the whole of the Irish man's manhood into him. His own cock drags down constricted by taut stomach muscles. They both close their eyes, eyelids fluttering shut as they submit to the rivets of warmth and tightness.

"Good innit?" Ste beams, "done it before?" Brendan knows he's not talking about the position.

"I have…kids…Steven." He bites the words like bullets, fighting the fact that anything could feel this good, that under Ste's power he's losing his mind to splinters.

"I don't mean with a girl!"

Brendan breathes heavily and Ste doesn't need words to know the answer. This is Brendan's first time bareback, it's Steven he knows more than any lover before.

"It's good innit, I mean it's really different with a bloke."

But Brendan knows it's not just the fact it's a man, it's not just gender that makes Steven Hay everything he is.

"It's not just-" but he doesn't have the words, instead he reaches for their embrace.

Lips are bought together. Hands push up through hair and nails scratch over shoulders. A tongue sweeps greedily as taste echoes from every cell. Fingers twist, mouths widen and tongues hunger. Every libidinous moan is swallowed.

And then Steven starts to move slowly, and Brendan feels his lungs burn for oxygen. He opens his eyes and sees Steven looking right into him. Those wide shining blue eyes become the only thing he can see. He can smell only them, like his breath is dedicated to them, like his chest is no longer strong enough to hold his lungs, his heart, like every essence of him belongs to Steven.

He's never felt as part of somebody else as he does right now. In the claustrophobia he grabs onto trust and belonging and fluency. He feels the familiar pattern of Ste's fingers over him and he's not scared.

"-It's you." He breathes. "It's always you."

Ste wraps his legs around him, so their bodies are coiled together. He strokes over all the scars he can't see and kisses all those he can. Just like that he shows acceptance for all that Brendan is, every dark screwed up place that makes him the man he loves. Ste's acts are a whispered promise of understanding for every nightmare Brendan has ever had or been a part of, an eternal dedication of love for every imperfection. In every moan he can hear the proposal and hopes there will never be a day when he can't hear Brendan's tone of honesty as he asked. He wants to fill every day of Brendan's future with love, but more than that he wants to feel like this every day for the rest of his life.

It's slow heavy sex, like they're trying to create forever with every essence. There is never anything else Brendan can see but his boy, and nothing else he ever wants to. He is being taught that the truth that there is never anything as powerful as every sense of Steven fuelled on every sense of him. And in this trance he can sense every beat of his own old tired heart, every ache in his sleep deprived muscles and the path of every groan throughout him. To him, the persistent tick of the bedroom clock has never sounded louder. He senses everything, but he's never felt more at peace – there is nothing else in this world he needs but to be a part of Steven. Here he is safe.

Bodies twist close together, like this they're made for each other. Brendan licks at the sweat forming on the boy's neck, wanting each atom of them safe and together.

Brendan can't stop staring into those bright blue eyes shining in the darkness, and then he sees the boy's long look at the objects left discarded on the bed.

"Is this, I mean, we could-" Ste's doubts jumble.

"I shouldn't have bought them to our bed Steven you know… I don't need them, not with you." He recalls Steven's earlier uncertainties and knows he has to right them, "you _are_ everything I could want, Steven do you hear me?"

Steven is more than the person he wants, he owns a place inside him, is it's discoverer, it's curer, and the reason for it's beat.

And he doesn't know whether the words come easily because he's lost in lust, or because they're this close, or just because their true, but they come with a deeper conviction than any other vow.

"You're my heart's everything."

Steven beams and brings their mouths to tease, gasps capture and glide together. Fingers crease paths never to be forgotten. Nothing has ever been like this, and it feels like nothing will ever again. Even if this is for eternity, nothing will compare to this moment, this first time.

Their hands press together, fingers lace on instinct.

Even if this is for eternity…

Lost to the moment Steven takes Brendan's middle finger into his mouth, sliding down, his tongue licks around the base. Brendan knows Steven's aware of this sweet spot, uses it often to his advantage. But this is different now, this tiny acquainted movement feels like the most significant embrace he's ever had. It feels like the boy is preparing him for forever.

Ste looks up into those dark blue eyes and feels his stomach dip into embarrassment. But Brendan presses their mouths to another kiss, pressing the nervous laugh back within him.

"We're really gonna do this?" Ste asks, doubtful.

"We're really gonna do this." Brendan promises him.

Everything feels achievable right now. Sitting this close it's like they're the same person. And Brendan thinks he could survive like this, being a part of them. Separation will only ever be futile when they share the same soul.

Silently, in just each other's gaze they share so many secrets, wordless promises of forever and vows of love.

Brendan's hands are soft as he cups his boy's arse, tilting him into that angle, committing to the path he knows. He lets Steven steal the breath from his lips and accepts his responsive keen because it's his. The vocal patterns of their love are quiet now like any clamour might shatter this haze.

Steven's movements grow harder, faster; and Brendan can't help thinking of giving into this, what it would feel like to climax unsheathed into his boy, to fill him and leave a permanent everlasting trace. At just the thought he feels the low light within the pit of him, looks into his boys eyes and sees the same shining back.

Instinctively his left hand moves into Steven's right, on the bed, and stays there, nails denting flesh, thumbs twisting, creating eternal spaces.

"Don't hold back please," Steven asks him, voice breathy like he can barely stand this. He knows Brendan has the power to fuck him for hours, but all he wants now is a union. "We can have sex tomorrow, and the next day, and next year, we can fuck in 2025 just don't hold back now."

Brendan knows he will always fulfil Steven's every request. He commits them to one last long kiss before he matches Steven's pace, building the tempo.

Brendan watches the play of climax in his love. His eyes absorb the pull of the boy's stomach muscles, the shake of his cock, the flair or his nostrils. He feels like he can mark the tease of each muscle, feel every ripple over take his boy. He can almost watch the orgasm spread throughout his love, and he knows exactly the point he becomes nothing but lips trembling thirsty for oxygen and cock ready to erupt, and at that exact moment he tells him he loves him.

Steven looks glorious as his seed splashes hard against Brendan's stomach. His eyes are beautiful pools of surrender as he freely gives Brendan everything. And as Brendan feels the constriction of those muscles around his cock he pulls his love closer, pushing further deep inside, marking his presence for an eternity. And he comes to the sound of his boy panting his name.

In the hazy aftermath their lips join together. It's a washing of kisses that neither are in control of. Like their instinct is just to feed from each other. The first thing that Brendan senses is the long slow drag of Steven's hand up his back. Their breaths cool together. Brendan brushes a hand over Steven's cheek, an imaginary hair. The kiss grows stronger, a tongue licks over lip, teeth, and then finds it's mate.

And then Brendan is swallowing Steven's happy laugh.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Just…I'm gonna have sex like that every day for the rest of my life, me." Steven breathes with a smile that Brendan can't help but taste before he remembers to tease.

"Oh you are, are you?"

"Yeah, I mean… the second bit, when it got really good."

Brendan purses his lips together, bends down to decorate Steven's shoulder bone with kisses.

"I don't think that part was sex Steven."

Steven's laugh is louder now.

"Brendan Brady, are you saying you just made love to me?!"

Steven's words are designed to make Brendan feel weak, ridicule him for being soft. Before now they would have done. But Brendan has learned that sex with his boy is something else entirely. It is everything, and there's not one part of that that makes him feel weak.

Brendan presses his hands against Ste's arse, pressing the lobes together, reminding Steven just how they were joined.

"I'm going to make love to you every night from now on," the promise is tattooed on every heartbeat.

They grow cold and uncomfortable before they release, never wanting to give this up. They make their way to the shower silently together, and as they get to the door, Brendan's left hand finds Steven's again.

In the fog of their shower they regain one another. After the run of a sponge over flexing muscles calls a long slow keen, Brendan instinctively laughs something about how Steven will be the death of him, but immediately regrets it and promises into a breathy kiss that he's never felt more alive. And Steven makes sure he means that, using all his remaining strength to thrust and bend.

When they cool together, Brendan wraps his boy in a towel and guides them to bed. Ste's giving in to sleep before he's even hit the pillow and Brendan pulls the blanket over his naked body. He collects the toys back into the bag.

"Can we…one day?" Steven asks voice laced with sleep.

"Only if you beg really hard." Brendan breathes, and then he remembers the trick with the dildo, the need to be inside Steven and the persistent feeling of potential failure. It all feels so ridiculous now. "You didn't even look surprised!"

"You're an idiot… I know your cock so well Brendan, me. Right, do you really think I didn't know?"

And there's something in Steven's words that makes Brendan think he designed the whole thing. There's a smile of confirmation and then Brendan's laughing.

"You're a cheeky little fucker aren't you?" He kisses the words to Steven's cheek.

"You love it," Steven murmurs, confident now.

And then he lifts the other side of the blanket up, Brendan's side

"Come to bed now," he says.

But in the contemplation of sleep Brendan can taste those nightmares from before.

"The kids are gonna be up in less than an hour, I'll stay up, get em breakfast and stuff."

He just shakes his head, humming low, "Amy's turn innit."

Steven opens one eye and looks at Brendan, raises one drowsy hand to sweep gently across his forehead. He can see how tired Brendan looks, how he looks almost ill with denied sleep. He wants to promise him he can sleep now, here; that he'll guard his nightmares until they wake into each other. But he doesn't have the words for that.

"You need to rest," he says instead.

Brendan gives in to his love's demands, climbing in their bed, feeling it warm with memories. There's a deep lethargy within his muscles and he has a feeling that the nightmares might not abound as soon as he closes his eyes.

Steven takes his hand, pulling his arm over him as they lay side by side. Their fingers slot together, the perfect fit. Brendan can't deny that he's beginning to like the look of that.

"Happy?" Steven asks like there's room for doubt.

"Oh, Steven you know," Brendan presses his mouth to Steven's ear, whispers night promises. "I didn't just mean it about the sex."

"What that I have to beg?!"

At Steven's tease Brendan just rolls his eyes.

"That I'm your heart's everything?" He whispers, and in his tone he shows those words mean more than he would ever say.

"Everything."

Steven reaches up for a bedtime kiss, and Brendan cups Steven's chin, his hand pushing up through his hair, using all those familiar things to tell him that he knows where he belongs. His home is wherever he is.

"So plan," Steven yawns, "we sleep till about noon right, have pizza, coffee and come back to bed till the kids get back, then we take em for a movie."

Brendan smiles at his idea of a perfect day.

"And the deli?"

"Texted Doug already aint I? Day off tomorrow, me."

Brendan wonders how he's had time to do that without him noticing. But Steven's head is already in the pillow, his heart calming for sleep, and he knows there isn't time for conversation.

He switches off the bedside lamp and in the dark he can almost hear those doubts - about how Steven can possibly still trust him, want him, love him, now after everything. But he just takes a long deep breath, breathing him in and those doubts out.

Steven's kiss is sweet against his arm as he whispers, "I always knew you'd come back home to me." And it sounds like an answer to it all.

Brendan sleeps soundly next to his boy. Their love makes the only dreams he has. He wakes up when the sun is high in the sky to the smell of homemade pizza in the oven, and the feel of Steven's kisses down low. And that is the memory that carries him through all the mornings of his future and makes him smile every time he opens his eyes to a new day. Even if usually he's unreasonably grumpy or sleep-deprived or down right angry and sometimes even lonely, he smiles. He knows he can always come back to this.

See the times are changing,  
And I'm sure of nothing that I know,  
Except this is us, and this is love, and this is where I'm home.

In a world that's breaking.

Where nothing is for keeps;  
Oh this is us, this is love and this is where I sleep.

(Emile Sande – "Where I sleep".)


End file.
